


Burnt

by dark_nexus17



Category: Farscape
Genre: Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-25
Updated: 2013-01-25
Packaged: 2017-11-26 19:21:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/653580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dark_nexus17/pseuds/dark_nexus17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Those who play with fire, often get burnt. Sikozu has been standing far too close, and Scorpius takes the game too far. Set after bad timing, but before PKW.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burnt

**Author's Note:**

> This occurs at some point after bad timing, but before the reconstitution of John and Aeryn. Very dubious consent, descriptions of partner abuse and violence.

‘Scorpius ...’ Sikozu said, emphasising the last syllable to show she was in the mood to play. She walked into Scorpius’ chambers, she had her own of course, both of them enjoyed their privacy, but recreational activities usually took place when Scorpius was at leisure, and therefore in his own rooms.

‘Scorpius?’ she said again, wondering where he could be, she wandered into his bedroom, and found him sat at his desk, his back was to her, and his profile was rigid. She sauntered over and gently caressed his shoulder. He stiffened.

‘Sikozu, now is not an appropriate time.’ He said, his voice sharp, the words clipped in a way that brooked no argument. She came round to the front of the desk to face him.

‘Are you unwell?’ she asked, a small amount of concern entering her voice.

‘If being constantly bothered by you counts as unwell then I imagine I have arns left to live.’ He replied, his eyes glinting dangerously. Sikozu raised her thin brows, and pressed her mouth into a line.

‘This has nothing to do with me Scorpius; this is about John Crichton and his wormholes. Crichton is dead, and you cannot correct it.’ She turned sharply on her heel and stalked out of the room, she had not yet reached the door to the outer chambers when Scorpius grabbed her arm roughly and pinned her against the wall. She smiled at him, and was about to make a remark on his change of heart when his lips crushed down on hers. Within microts there was a pile of clothes on the floor.

She finally got the chance to catch her breath when Scorpius moved away suddenly and went to his desk, pulling something out of a partly concealed draw. It was a whip, the latest addition to their rougher-than-normal sex life. Sikozu looked up coyly at Scorpius as he came towards her and was somewhat shocked by the intensity of the fire in his eyes. He turned her around against the wall and brought the whip down on her back: her breath hissed out through her teeth. He brought it down again, harder, making her keen in pain; this level of intensity was not within their usual range.

She then felt him grab her hair roughly, and he threw her to the floor.

‘Scorpius?’ she said weakly, her voice shaking a little as she tried to sit up.

‘Be quiet you ignorant tralk.’ He replied, bringing his hand across her face to knock her down again before grabbing her hair again so he could bite her neck and force her onto her knees. He entered her forcefully from behind, ignoring her cry of pain, and brought the whip down again, and again with the same rhythm as his thrusts.

Sikozu had never been afraid like this, their recreation was rough, but there was never too much pain, he was never too harsh with her, he had even tended to her bruises once when he had been a little too rough, but she had not been afraid of him then.

She was now.

Every thrust and snap of the whip made her want to scream but her throat had seized up, the pain was too much, it was like having her limbs cut off again but worse, because someone she trusted was intentionally inflicting this cruel pain on her, and he had called her a tralk. Her mind could no longer wander as the pain became more intense, incessant, relentless, accompanied by snarls and growls and her own tortured breathing until finally, he finished, pinning her to the floor.

***

When he heard the name Crichton, his vision went red, he did not want to talk to Sikozu, and he did not want anyone to mention that name to him ever again. He would never gain wormhole knowledge, his ambition had been thwarted and he did not lose anything easily. As she walked away her words taunted him, and he suddenly needed control, to regain it his fevered mind had told him he must harm her.

Some part of him new her was hurting her, but mostly he couldn’t bring himself to care, as he struck her over and over again, hearing her ragged breathing, hearing his own lust and power crazed growls. Lacerations began to split the skin of her back as he whipped her again and again, her bioloid blood seeping into the crevices, staining her pale flesh. He couldn’t stop, and when he finished he collapsed.

***

Sikozu stayed absolutely still and silent until Scorpius rolled off her. Shaking violently and breathing in with strangled grasps, she fixed his cooling rods, he looked oddly vacant, but at least the murderous look in his eyes was no longer so pronounced. Still shaking, she crawled towards her clothing, but stopped as she saw the blood dripping onto the floor, reaching round to her back, she gently touched one of the ridges of flesh where the whip had broken her skin and then she collapsed.

Scorpius came to his senses about a microt after Sikozu lost hers. He was confused, he remembered the rage, the overwhelming desired to cripple, to maim, he glanced around the room until his eyes fell on Sikozu, lying naked on the floor in her own blood, her body and face twitching in pain even in unconscious, he found the whip next to him on the floor.

‘Oh Sikozu,’ he murmured, ‘what have I done?’

He picked her up and laid her gently on his bed, he knew she would wake up soon, and he would have some explaining to do when she did.

As the world swam into focus, the first thing Sikozu registered was Scorpius’ face, she tried to scream, but her throat was too dry. She tried to push herself away, but she was too weak and a firm had prevented her from trying again.

‘Here,’ Scorpius said, passing her some water. She took it shakily, avoiding both his touch and his gaze.

‘I was initially somewhat confused as to why you were lying in your own blood on my floor but the details have returned.’ He told her as she drank. When she had finished he went to take the cup from her and she flinched away. He sighed; he had never meant to hurt her in this way. His Scarren side was an unfortunate and sometimes uncontrollable part of him, he feared that this time, it had driven away the only person, other than Braca, who he felt he could call friend, who didn’t look at him with some measure of fear or disdain in their eyes.

‘I am extremely sorry that I hurt you Sikozu, I fear the death of Crichton has unbalanced me more that I wished to admit, it was unforgivable of me to take those feelings and use them against you.’

‘You called me an ignorant tralk.’ Sikozu said softly, still averting her eyes from his.

‘Yes I did, and you should know that I do not believe that statement to be true.’

Sikozu nodded.

‘There is one thing, I am still confused about though,’ said Scorpius, ‘why didn’t you run, or call out for help? Braca would have surely come to your aid, he knows as well as you what I am, what I can become in the wrong circumstances.’

A lone tear fell from Sikozu’s lashes as she replied,  
‘I did not want you to think I was weak. You value strength and discipline above all things, weakness is for those who wish to fail.’

‘I do not think you are weak Sikozu,’ Scorpius assured her, ‘although I would prefer it if you looked at me whilst I was speaking to you.’

She raised her head slowly, and held his eyes with her own, for a moment he was speechless, he had not seen the full extent of her injuries. Her face was bruised so badly, that her eyes seemed to shine out against the black marks on her skin, the bite on her neck was a vivid orange red and her scalp was bleeding slightly. He sighed again; he had done so much damage. He leant towards her and kissed her bruised lips very lightly.

‘Will you allow me to assist you with your injuries?’ he asked

She nodded, and he thought that there may be hope for them yet.


End file.
